When I heard our pastor say, “It is my joy to present to you, for the very first time, Mr. & Mrs. Vagner Lage,” I almost cried for the millionth time that day. I will always remember the elation I felt when I realized we’d actually pulled it off and were finally married. All of my fears faded away as I partied the night away with my brand spankin’ new husband — it was seriously the best day of my life.
During the summer of 2015, we found out we’d be starting our marriage in the Fort Lauderdale area instead of our hometown as we planned. I can’t lie to you –– I wept because I was scared. I’d only be four hours from home, but Fort Lauderdale and Wesley Chapel are very, very different places. Nearly three years since we got that phone call, we’ve moved back home, and I wanted to share more about our reasoning with y’all!
This dude was a real piece of work. I remember angrily texting my best friend to tell her the news: He just turned down my prom invite, and I’m going to have to go alone.
The year before, he’d told me that I was beautiful, one-of-a-kind, the kind of woman he saw himself settling down with. I stayed up all night talking to him. I’d find myself hanging out with him after youth group services, hoping he’d finally ask me out.
As I’m writing this I’m picturing your vows starting with something about how years ago you could never picture marrying me. When we started this thing, I was this goofy kid who wasn’t really going anywhere in life. By some miracle and after all I’d put you through, I got you to go out with me.
We could still see the venue in our rearview mirror when I started crying.
It was the happiest day of my life. The weather was beautiful and our vendors were amazing. The Holy Spirit showed up during our ceremony, and our loved ones partied hard during the reception. But before the last of the sparklers even died out, I was an emotional mess.